


Tasse d'argent

by WichitaRed



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 11:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: Wrangling horses has been almost better than robbing banks, but for two amnesty driven outlaws coming back from the Utah wilds has set them right away on the outs with a pal and what else is to come...





	

Getting the herd to Silver Cup, Utah had been tiring and hard on the back. Still the truth was Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had enjoyed it, immensely one could even say. Each of them had been born to horseback, spending time capturing the best the wild mustang herds had to offer had been fulfilling. Curry had even come to the conclusion it was better than robbing banks. Although Heyes, was not ready to agree with such a foolhardy statement, however, he had conceded it was better than being chased by a posse anyway you cut the deck.

Having shaken the frigid well water from their hair and dried their faces, after a quick rinse at the stable pump, they now stood in the warm, afternoon sun admiring their accomplishment. Between them they shared a look, which said without words how happy they felt. Unlike the sixty mustangs of every hue, that were smashed against the back side of the livestock corral with their heads held high eyeing them

Strolling up wearing a black suit, ruffled boiled shirt, and flashy cuff links, Ambroise St. Martin called out, “never thought to see y’all here.”

In unplanned, perfect unison, Heyes and Curry spun their hands dropping to their sidearms.

“Hey now…” St. Martin threw his hands in the air laughing, “… seems y’all have been livin’ on the edge in the wild, a tad too long.”

Behind the long, jagged wet bangs, Heyes eyes slanted to his partner, and then he played out his full smile, “How you doing, Ambroise?”

“Saloons are raking in the money with the newest silver strike, so I can’t be for complainin’ any.” He walked on up, admiring the loaded corral. “Hell Joshua, I realize you laid out your plan to me. I also realize, I said, it would be a failure and hoped you had a backup plan.” He laid his arms across the top rail, “Just didn’t think you would find anything but beat down broomtails up in the hills; these is damn, fine, lookin’ animals; these are.”

“Told you I didn’t require no backup plan, I know this area, fact was I was the--”

“champeeeen tracker of all of Southern Utah.” Curry spoke out right over the top of his partner, raising one brow and rolling his eyes at him.

Heyes snorted, his face twisting into a barely achievable smile.

St. Martin swung around, leaning his back to the corral, releasing a full laugh, “Don’t get me wrong, I like ‘em, but Thaddeus when he told me, y’all had been pals for as long as he could recall, I kinda wondered how anyone could, full-time, put up with his…” he jabbed a thumb toward Heyes, “… well let’s call it showmanship. I see now, you got your own ways of knockin’ em down here and again.”

“That I do, Ambroise.” Curry dropped an arm about his partner’s shoulders, “Truth is showmanship, or not, he is still the best pal a man could wish for.”

Heyes turned and looked at Curry, a boyish grin appearing.

From the herd, a squeal ripped free and the animals did a quick turn of the paddock, stirring up a cloud of dust, when it settled they were no longer so bunched. Having figured out they were trapped they were milling about investigating their surroundings with loud blowing snorts.

Looking back to the herd, St. Martin shook his head, “I tell ya, it has been a good while since I seen anything, I wished so much to blow a bank roll on.”

Stepping closer to the corral, Heyes chortled, “That is good to hear, still you cannot buy the whole herd.”

“Now Joshua, I told you, how I wished to continue building up my herd; horses with speed and endurance that I can take to California to race and sell.”

“Yeah, you told me about your herd, right after you told me my plan was bound to fail and I wouldn’t find a horse…” Heyes waved toward the mountains, “…out there worth more than it would bring for butcher cost.”

“I was being big headed.” St. Martin rolled out a friendly smile, laying his palm atop Heyes shoulder. “Anyway, I’m dead right serious about buyin’ em, I’d sell one of my saloons to round up the cost for all of’em.”

“No need to go through all that, ‘cause I’m not going to be selling you all of ‘em.”

St. Martin was used to getting his own way and he could feel his anger simmering, swallowing, he worked at keeping it battened down. “Listen here, Joshua, my money’s just as good as the next man.” He smiled over at Curry, “Tell ‘em Thaddeus, he listens to you.”

“Only when he’s a mind to,” Curry replied.

Heyes passed his partner a look, before saying “Ain’t about the money, and trust me that is a hard thing for me to say.”

Ambroise responded, “What?!?” His single word sounding almost like a snarl as he took a few steps back, his teeth scraping across his lower lip. It was then that he noticed a twisted grin creeping onto Heyes’ face. During the short, fast friendship he had built with Joshua Smith, he had learned that smile meant the man was playing at some game. Knowing this fanned the flames of Ambroise temper, “This some of your foolery?”

“Nope, the Colonels.” Hannibal replied, his smile, taking hold until his dimples creased his face.

“Joshua, be _raisonnable_!” Ambroise squalled, hearing himself slip back to his Louisiana roots. Over the years, he had trained himself not to let the swamp he had been raised in, effect how others saw him. Starting with ridding himself of his thick, and most times hard to understand, Cajun accent that had gotten him into more than a few fights out West. Yet, right now, in this moment, he did not care how he sounded.

“Colonel gets first choice and he’s informed us, he wants no less than forty head.”

“ _Feu d'enfer_ , that cannot be true!”

“Oh, but it is!” Heyes answered, his smile slipping to its largest notch.

“Now, now Joshua, voir raison I could have the currency in y’alls hands by tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Ambroise, and honestly, mighty regretful, but,” Heyes laid a hand on the man’s tight, squared shoulder, “conversations over.”

“ _Mais, jamais d’la vie_!” Ambroise cursed, ripping off his hat and throwing it to the ground.

“I’m real sorry you feel that way.” Heyes replied and with a heavy exhale headed over to speak with the Stable’s owner, John Collins who had exited the barn waving to him.

Ambroise kicked his hat, after all the nights of poker and afternoons chatting on his saloon’s upper balcony while enjoying cigars, he felt that he and Joshua had become fine pals. Still pals or not, it did not give Joshua the right to play him the fool.  
  
Kid snorted out a laugh at the fuming Cajun stirring up dirt as he puffed about like a kicked rooster.

Ambroise’s face tightened, his head flicked toward Kid Curry, the look coming off him pure snake mean. Reaching down, he snagged his hat from the dirt. Taking a breath, he dusted it off, placing it back where it belonged and the moment Heyes finished paying rent on the corrals, Ambroise stalked over. Without a word, he grabbed Heyes’ shoulder, spinning him so they were nose to nose.

“Non, enough now. I know you’re up to _buffooneries_ , there is no way this side of hell you and Thaddeus are going to turn down solid money for these animals, so just tell me your selling price.”

Heyes eyes started to narrow and then he exhaled, “Ambroise, I’m not fooling with you. And, I’m also not selling you this herd until Colonel chooses his.” He laid a hand on St. Martin’s shoulder, his tone becoming flat and hard, “let’s drop it, this conversation is over.”

“You _fichu frimeur_ , this conversation is over when I say it is.”

When Ambroise slung Heyes’ hand off, Curry stepped closer, avidly tracking the action.

Leaning back into his heels, Hannibal Heyes lifted his chin, his eyes becoming as hard and black as wet horse hooves. “Not sure what you just called me…” he held up a hand to stop St. Martin from speaking, “probably best if you don’t make it clear. Still, I have a deal in place for this herd. And, if there is one point, Thaddeus and I are damn proud of… it is that is our word is good. And, I have no intention on breaking our word to the Colonel.”

Ambroise leaned closer to Heyes, nearly spitting as he said, “This is not over ‘till I say it is. This here be my town and y’all want to be playin’ me the _imbécile_.”

“I’m not playing at any game, Ambroise, or challenging you, but the Colonel, he is a close friend of a mutual friend that… well, has a long reach. So, there is no way Thaddeus or I are doing anything which might upset the Colonel. Let’s let this go, come on simmer down and I’ll buy you a cold beer.”

“I do not want a damn beer not even sure I want to be your friend, until you show you have a higher opinion of me than you’re currently presentin’.”

Hannibal’s mouth twitched and he bit the inside of his lip, restraining the smile which he knew would be the topper to blow this situation sky high. He could not quite latch hold of where this had gone from buying horses to Ambroise honor feeling tarnished.  
  
Then, before he could come up with the correct response, Curry stepped up on Ambroise, so close the man was forced to step backwards. “Way I understand it, them two weeks Joshua laid about Silver Cup waiting for me to catch up. You two seem to have knocked together a pretty good friendship. Me, I’m still learning you. But, I’m only saying this once,” the skin about Curry’s blue eyes tightened, “we’ll stand by our word to the Colonel. And, as Joshua said, this conversation is over, so you best holster your temper.”

Heyes touched Curry’s arm, “Thaddeus, I got this.”

Except while Heyes was looking to Thaddeus, he missed Ambroise lunge and his double-handed shove sent Thaddeus reeling, “and you, Thaddeus, would be best off to mind your own tally.”

In the time it took Ambroise to turn his glare on Joshua, Kid Curry lowered his head, barreling headlong into the Cajun slamming him to the ground, landing three punches before Ambroise twisted flipping the pair of them; his hands encircling Curry’s throat.  
  
Jumping forward to get involved, Heyes was half a step behind the action because Curry had already bashed one leg into Ambroise’s groin. The tall, square built Cajun doubled up and rolled off to the side.

Extending a hand, Heyes hauled his partner from the soft, clinging dust of the stable yard and smiling said, “you” only loud enough for Curry to hear before striding to Ambroise and extending his hand again.

Accepting Heyes assistance, Ambroise staggered to his feet and retrieving a kerchief from his pocket, he dabbed at the blood oozing from the corner of his eye and mouth, “I shouldn’t have pushed it so far.” Feeling of his jaw, he grimaced, “let my damn, bull headed, swamp temper get the best of me.” Straightening his clothing, he looked up flashing a small smile at the two men; secretly hoping it was also done for Thaddeus Jones; for never in all his years had someone come back at him so fast and hard. Shaking his head to dislodge some of the ringing, he thought, ‘ain’t a drop of blood on‘em, _feu d'enfer_ , he isn’t even winded.’

His blue eyes remaining on Ambroise, Curry slung his hat around, straightening the stampede strings before settling it back in place on his head.

Knocking some of the dust from Curry’s shoulders and back, Heyes asked, “we all good here?”

Ambroise flicked an eye from Joshua to the thick, shouldered blonde at his side, “Oui we are…just like nothing happened . . . as I said, I shouldn’t have pushed this beyond the bounds of gentleman, my apologies”

Kid Curry rolled his shoulders and seeing him do so, Ambroise hoped it was settled. In their brief confrontation, he had discovered Thaddeus Jones was not a man he wanted to be on the wrong side of, swallowing he offered his hand, “You are one hell of a fighter, Jones.”

Taking it in a tight grip, Curry responded, “well, you’re pretty fast, it’s a rare day anyone is allowed close enough to touch me.” He snuck a look to Heyes, whose eyes flicked to the Colt strapped to Curry’s leg and as the meaning came through St. Martin paled a bit.

Covering his smile, Heyes coughed into his hand. “As I was trying to explain before you got so heated up…” He looked straight into St. Martin’s deep set brown eyes. “…it really isn’t truly me or Thaddeus telling you no. As your pal, I would be happy to do as you wished. Just we got this deal with the Colonel and he has us under his thumb, and I wouldn’t want him to tie us up any further.”

Curry grunted at Heyes play on words passing him an exasperated glare.

Ambroise nodded, “I understand,” but his eyes slid to the corral of horses.

Despite all that had occurred, Heyes could still see the man’s obvious desire and wondered what use he could make of it.

 


End file.
